The Art of Flocking
by cranberieee
Summary: "It starts in late May when the rumoured English summers come but yet the sun shines dim and here, the countryside just screams dull, quiet comfort." [AU. Long-winding love story.]
1. UNO

It starts in late May when the rumoured English summers come but yet the sun shines dim and here, the countryside just screams dull, quiet comfort.

A little blond boy with green eyes that have lost the spark in them stands in front of a tall mahogany door. The hand on his shoulder gave him a light squeeze then it was gone like the fresh breeze that warned of the coming seasons. All that was left were the creases on an ironed polo from the pressure of the recent touch and a boy on the porch of a luxuorious estate. Arthur clutched his suitcase and stifled a cry as he tapped upon the entrance. The door opens and a woman with kind eyes saw him; she immediately kneeled down and took the poor boy into her arms, into this manor. Arthur was an orphan now.

The days just whisk by at 's Home for boys. Arthur was well adjusted and the nuns found him to be quite a gentleman amongst the rowdy resident children. He was thought to be in such good behaviour that he was recommended to room with the almost "hopeless" cases in faint chance that he might be a positive influence. So a month in, Arthur was already deemed the most likable child there and here he was, in a room with three of the most juvenile kids and that's in 9-year-old standards; Arthur was barely skimming the surface of 9, he just turned 8 recently.

He was still alone though. He was so indifferent. Perhaps it's because he got a taste of family whereas most of the others were abandoned since birth. That's what the older albino boy who was rooming with him said; the boy named Gilbert had stated that he was left here since he was an infant because of his "too awesome" features. Arthur cringed at him though. Then there was Francis. Absolutely gorgeous for a young boy and the Frenchie was unashamed in flaunting his golden locks and fluttering his girlish eyelashes, Arthur detested him the most. That boy was also abandoned. His mother was a deplorable "bed-hopper" and the father was a reputable politician so to avoid much scandal, Francis was hefted away as soon as he was born to the outskirts of England. Then there was Antonio.

Antonio was the one among the three who would give him the time of day. The other green-eyed boy would be playing pirates with him after their lessons. Antonio never teased him about the fact that the little Briton would prefer to read books than play football with the others or that he would opt to go on strolls along the gardens than stay in to play games. Also, the Spanish boy did not join in the constant bullying of Arthur due to the fact he got some time with his parents as well. To the blonde's knowledge, Antonio's parents died before the little Spaniard could remember anything.

"Hey Toni." Arthur said as he looked up from the book he was currently reading. It was a simplified version of Shakespeare's Othello, nothing of astounding relevance for an 8-year old to be reading in a perfect afternoon.

"Hmm~?" The other responded, lifting his drowsed face from the pillow he was drooling from, Arthur stifled a laugh and coughed,

"Why do you think people are like this?" He points a skinny pale finger at the cover where a man looking like he was going insane was depicted.

Antonio glanced at the cover before making sounds that seemed to point out the fact that he was thinking, quite out loud as well.

"Maybe it's because they ran out of tomatoes! I would go muy loco if I didn't get my fix of tomatoes!" The Spanish boy beamed. Arthur laughed in response which made Antonio get up, looking somewhat offended,

"Hey! I'm telling the truth, Arthuro~! It's a honest opinion!" He pouted and did a defiant pose, which was countered by his sleep shirt (it was practically a dress). Arthur couldn't help but laugh some more.

"But Anthony, y-you're so f-fu-funny!"

"Arthur!" Antonio was about to blurt out a retort but seeing the other laughing his heart out because of these simple things made him feel happier too. Antonio joined in the laughter of the young Brit.

They both calmed down after a while, "Hey Arthur, why is the man on the cover crazy?" The older of the two settled back on his floor mattress, getting ready to sleep again.

"He's being fed a lot of lies, I think anyone would go crazy if you're always being lied to." Arthur frowned as he traced the spine of the book with his fingers. Antonio yawned.

"That's sad. Even his amigos lied to him?"

"Ah, no but something else happened…"

"Well! There had to someone who stuck with him 'til the end, si?" Antonio stretched and was on the verge of drowsing off to siesta land.

"Desdemona but she-" Arthur looked down on his book again with pitiful green eyes, Antonio looked at him when he stayed silent for too long.

"Arthur! Why are you so sad? It's just a book!"

"B-but this kind of thing can happen to anyone," he wearily placed the paperback on the windowsill, which he sat upon.

Antonio sighed and got up to sit beside his troubled friend. He patted Arthur's nest of messy blond hair, "then I'll be your Desdemona! The person who sticks to you 'til the end, si? That way if you go crazy, you won't be so sad! Nothing is that sad when you know you're not alone.."

Arthur's cheeks flushed ferociously and he shoved the Spaniard a bit. "You're talking while you're half-asleep, Toni! Go back to your si-thing!"

"Siesta!"  
"W-whatever!"

And as the seasons change, everything else does as well. Not completely though, the summer showers still come but that's okay, it was nice to have some sunshine with a little rain.

A boy edging closer to his adolescence sits on a bench hidden amongst the roses in his secret garden inspired by one of the many books he's read. He smiles as he thumbs through the pages of another novel. He inhaled and smelled spring, it was coming and these roses would bloom to their fullest. He felt enlightenment surge through his body. Arthur opened his book and began to read. It was "Watership Down" by Richard Adams, quite a peculiar tale with the most interesting of heroes; he somehow relates to a certain bunny who feels lost and lonely yet surrounded by all the other bunnies. He sighed when he finished another quarter of it and realized he was due to the dinner hall in a few minutes. Arthur closed his book then felt it's worn out cover with much affection. Arthur was still an orphan but he was a happy one at that.

First thing that he noticed when he got to the hall was that Gilbert was missing again. The albino had gotten in touch with his inner rebel and insisted on staying hours out in the night then returning about 30 minutes to an hour past curfew. Arthur snorted at how Gilbert thought that it made him so 'awesome', Francis saw him and gestured for him to sit next to him. Arthur hates to admit it but the guy grew up pretty and was relieved when they settled their differences. The pair of them is now the closest of dysfunctional friends. Of course, there was still Antonio.

They no longer played pirates as much but they would sit together and just manage to talk about the silliest to the most important of things for hours with no end. Arthur had caved more into his books and he would run off to be alone a lot of times but Antonio would scope him out and just keep him company until the blond would finally break and talk to him. It was that sort of relationship that's tittering between dispute and refuge. Arthur made Francis scoot over so that he could sit beside the seemingly dejected Spanish boy.

"What's the matter with you?" Arthur enquired as he tapped the book he was holding onto the other's head.

"Adoption day is tomorrow, mi amigo." Antonio sighed as he carelessly played with the fork set up for him.

"So?" A thick blond eyebrow quirked in response as Arthur sat down and looked at the set up cutlery plus empty plate now in front of him.

"Well, for starters, nobody wants to adopt kids who are about as old as us," Francis butted in as he placed a napkin gently on his lap, exuding some mysterious type of allure as he did.

"Because we're fifteen! One more year until we're sort of technically legal!" An albino suddenly joined in the conversation, bouncing onto the empty seat at the Antonio's other side.

"But you still can, Arthuro. You're about thirteen but you look like you're twelve! Actually, someone might mistake you for an eight year old!" Antonio cooed and teased as Arthur huffed at the statement, careful not to lash out at the three now laughing boys.

Then dinner was served and the conversation was left to that. Little did the boys know that one of Arthur's worst nightmares would revisit him the next day and just whisk him away in a blink. Perhaps it was the power of suggestion? Or simply because fate just loved to play games like that.

A/N: When Gil said technically legal is because of England's age of consent thing. To my knowledge, when you're 16 there, you can have get a job (as long as it isn't in a pub/bar), have intercourse, join the army, get married (w/ parents' consent), get civil partnership (also w/ parents' consent), and well, basically you get the gist of it. Oh, you're allowed to drink-ish as well. Just correct me if I'm wrong. Hehe.


	2. DOS

The months they don't matter, it's the days that people can't take- when the hours move to minutes and they're just seconds away.

Green eyes winced as a stream of light seeped through his curtains and onto his face. The sunlight seemed to be purposely waking him up and he scowled as he sat up. Arthur ran a pale hand through his bed-hair as a sigh escaped his lips. He scanned his surroundings; a quaint bedroom with antique furnishing that complimented its regal atmosphere. His eyes immediately darted towards the miniature clock tower on his bedside table and sighed as he realised that he was not late for school. Arthur also let out another sigh as he looked at the date. It had been exactly one year after his adoption and everyday as he lay on his silk sheet bed, his mind would wander back to the days of his flawed childhood with familiar delight.

The Kirklands were a curious bunch of people. Arthur learned not to bother his older stepbrothers, as they tend to be easily irritable with the family business occupying most of their time. His stepmother was a pleasant woman who regarded him so fondly and bought him books to scrounge up weekly. The father was busy like the brothers and Arthur doesn't recall seeing much of him; the only conversation he had with the man as far as he was concerned was when they were choosing schools for him to go to. Arthur had everything that he used to want but still, he felt empty especially since he got cut off from almost all contact from his old friends from 's.

He eased off of his bed and started on his daily routine: bath, brush, and dress. Once the blond was sure he looked absolutely prim in his new uniform, Arthur grabbed his briefcase filled with fresh school supplies and did a quick check. "Everything seems to be in place," he muttered to himself as his eyes scanned through the items. Some glossy sort of paper had its edge sticking out of one of his novels so Arthur picked it up and smiled at the photo of him and the delinquent orphan trio in their room. It was taken the day that he was officially moving out and Francis insisted that he couldn't leave without a decent memento of the place. He shook the smile off his face and trotted down the stairs for some breakfast.

"Are you excited for school?" A maid enquired as he hurriedly ate his cinnamon toast and downed his milk. Arthur didn't usually eat like such an ill-mannered child but he was indeed pepped up for school.

He nodded as he got up and made his way to the door in haste. Arthur had never felt so thrilled in his life before. The former orphan had gone through such trouble in choosing this school because one, the family he lived with was Anglican whereas the school he choose was a Catholic reform boarding school; two, there were so many other prestigious schools that offered him such amazing privileges unlike this one; three, it was an incredulous task trying to track down any of the three friends he had in 's so when he miraculously came across Gilbert's face on the newspaper for 'accidentally' setting fire to a shop close to the campus, he was pretty sure that at least one of the three had to be studying there.

The drive down to the school wasn't long but as the minutes ticked by, Arthur was getting restless. "What if they're there but they don't recognise me?" or "What if they don't want to friends with me because I left them?" were among the many questions floating across his mind. He exhaled them away as the black family car passed through the school gates. When the car came to a stop in front of the main building, Arthur held the case under his arm and got out as slowly as he could.

"Is that who I think that is~?" A strangely accented voice spoke from the other side of the car. Arthur whipped his head towards that direction and saw a blond boy who could easily be mistaken as a beautiful girl if not for the slight stubble on his chin and tone of his voice.

The car drove off and Arthur was left gaping at the boy that he assumed was French…who did Arthur know who was French again?

"Arthur! Mon dieu! Don't you know whose gorgeous face you're looking upon at the moment?" The other blond cried out and approached Arthur who was in a trance of thought.

"Francis!" He called out and gave his childhood friend with a face splitting grin. The older boy nodded then gestured for a hug, Arthur met the gesture and embraced his friend who then proceeded to capture him in a headlock.

"WHAT THE HELL IS THIS FOR?!" The green eyed one practically screamed as his skull was held almost crushingly tight by Francis who was merely laughing at his pain.

"This is for not recognising me while this-" Francis paused his sentence in order to twist Arthur a bit in the headlock, "is for not writing or calling or anything! And this-" Arthur was yelping at this point and was prepared for the worst, he was surprised when the French boy let him go and actually hugged him properly, "is me acknowledging the fact that you're really here and not a figment of my imagination."

Arthur sighed and hugged back, "I missed you too, ugly French frog." They both laughed at the familiar taunt. Francis then slapped the back of Arthur's head whilst they were walking into the school as revenge.

The green-eyed blond attended his class with a sore head. Francis had slapped him pretty hard and he was already formulating some sort of corporal punishment for the other. He scoffed as he decided to sit at the second row closest to the window.

Arthur made some acquaintances but pretty much focused on the lectures and discussions, as he was hardwired to do. However, amidst the fourth period before lunch, his eyes wandered off to the area that the window viewed. It was not any spectacle or anything. It was just the pavement with greenery and the occasional bench and light post.

A crown of platinum blond, if not silver, hair was there among the students that were seemingly on their way to the cafeteria. It was Gilbert. Arthur was certain that it had to be the very same Gilbert that he grew up with. The albino was donned in the same uniform of the school and looked like he was throwing a tantrum while walking with another student who was quite tall and wore a scarf despite the heat. The pair was odd to look at with Gilbert's ever-changing expressions that went from extremely annoyed to completely shocked whereas the big blond beside him had this smile plastered upon his porcelain face. Arthur chuckled, it seems like Gilbert is still up to the same antics.

" , would you care to share whatever it is that you find funny to the rest of us?" His teacher called out to him as her face contorted to a mixture of intolerance and exasperation.

"Oh nothing, miss! Just a passing thought." Arthur smiled sheepishly at her and went back to his books. She just scoffed in return and continued on with her lecture that the green-eyed boy droned out as his gaze followed the two pale males walking until they were out of site. Surprisingly so, the bell rang marking the end of class and the beginning of lunch at the same time Gilbert and his friend disappeared from Arthur's sight. He snapped out of his trance and fixed up his things. Arthur then made his way out of his room only to find Francis waiting for him at the hallway.

"How did you know I was in this classroom?" Arthur raised a brow at the Frenchman who let out a subtle (but not subtle enough) giggle.

"I have my connections," Francis replied with a smirk, " now, let us eat~! Gilbert's probably waiting for us at the canteen with his boyfriend."

The older blond had some disappointment laced with the mentioning of the last two words as he led Arthur to the café. The two were doing quite a bit of catching up. Arthur learned that Francis was accepted into the main house of his father despite his birthright conditions. Gilbert was somehow found by his younger brother who seemed like an uptight kid that Arthur might get along with. The reunited duo chatted away about trivialities and they Francis explained the story of how their albino friend ended up in the newspaper.

"The poor boy lost his wallet there. Honestly, the place had such awful security that it didn't come as a shock that he got pick-pocketed there. Gilbert went on his infamous exaggerated whining for days with no end, he made a declaration of setting the place on fire which our dear friend, Antonio, suggested. That's when Gilbert…"

This was the part where Arthur practically stopped listening to Francis's ramble about Gilbert and his arsonist tendencies. Arthur's mind drifted to Antonio. Where was the Spanish boy? Why did Francis not mention the other until now? Did something happen to that sweet, sweet, sweet boy? Arthur's train of thought came to a screeching halt when he heard a voice cry out.

"Francis! Over here!"

He knew that sing-song tone and that slight roll of the R.

Arthur glanced towards the direction of the voice. Seated next to each other was Gilbert and Antonio. The first was on his phone with this irritated tone while the latter was waving frantically at him and Francis.

It was Antonio.

The Briton felt a smile creep across his face. Francis saw this at the corner of his peripherals and couldn't help but grin as well. He pushed Arthur forward to the table.

"Look at us, all back together again."


End file.
